With a Little Help From My Friends
by Moczo
Summary: Sole Survivor Nate has found himself developing somewhat poorly-timed feelings for stalwart reporter Piper Wright. He knows this isn't the time to act on such things... but luckily, he has plenty of 'great friends' who know that really just means he's a total sissy, and they're going to help him find love whether he likes it or not. What a 'lucky guy'. (Rated M for language.)


**Author's Note: Hey all! This is a (LONG) request fic from my tumblr, the prompt being, "Fallout 4, whereupon the SS decides to romance their LI of your choice, Old World style. Hilarity ensues."**

 **And, well, you know me. I like to take these things above and beyond.**

 **As a side note, I'm terribly sorry about my slow update schedule lately. Slow even for me, I mean; we had some serious health problems in the family that nearly lost me a cousin, all at roughly the same time my job (CURSE MY JOB) hit me with about three straight months of overtime. Creativity is hard, man.**

 **(*)**

 **With a Little Help From My Friends**

 **(*)**

This was not how Nate had imagined his life going.

Well, that much was hardly worth even saying. He had expected his home to _not_ get nuked, which admittedly had been overly optimistic considering the state of the world at the time. He had expected that Vault-tec would actually offer fallout shelters that didn't just freeze everyone for no damn reason, which was a bit more reasonable; what reasonable company would save people from nuclear war only to just kill them all in an experiment that clearly didn't have any actual purpose? Well, wandering around the Commonwealth and finding a few other Vaults had given the answer: Vault-tec. Vault-tec was the sort of company that would do that.

And… well, he hadn't ever expected to be a widower.

Nora and Shaun had been his whole world, but as horrible as it sounded, he just _didn't know_ Shaun. He loved his son, he truly did, and the day he had been born had been among the greatest of his life. But it was the love for something you had _created_ , someone you desperately _wanted_ to know. Nora, though…

Nora had been his soulmate. He'd known her most of his life, they had been high-school sweethearts and married by college, and neither of them had ever regretted it for a second. Every second of his time in the army, he had missed her; upon ending his enlistment he had never wanted to leave her side. He had never wanted to be without her, and losing her had been like having his heart cut out. Had it not been for Shaun missing, the burning need to find their child together and the almost toxic hope it could be accomplished, he might well have just given up. Laid down and died right there.

But their child had been taken, and Nate had to fight on. He had stepped out of that frozen Vault and into the Commonwealth, the remains of the Boston he had once known, and he had pieced himself together. It was a strange and oddly enticing world; everything was wrong to his eyes, and dangerous indeed, with sickening mutants and vicious animals throughout the wilderness. But in other ways, it drew him in. It was strange, wild, but people had _hope._ Danger was everywhere, but it still lacked the fear of the world he had remembered, before the bombs fell. The thing that everyone thought would end the world had already happened, and in one shape or another life went on despite it. So what else was there to fear?

Well, Deathclaws. There was deathclaws to fear. Fuck deathclaws. But that was a more _immediate_ fear than the whole 'rampant social injustice and sociopolitical turmoil leading to inevitable conflict between nations, each one corrupt and oppressive.' That kind of fear was much worse, really. Pervasive, it was.

Nate had not yet found his child. He had lost his wife and would never get her back. And yet, he felt himself slowly but surely healing as he progressed through the Commonwealth seeking Shaun. This world, these people, the bizarre hope that was their survival against all odds… it was nearly impossible to _not_ be inspired by it all to some degree. With each person he met, each connection he made, he felt more at home in this world. A few special bonds even joined his journey, becoming his close friends and allies, and they were the greatest healers of all to his inner scars.

One in particular.

"Blue, you are a _dork,_ " Piper said, watching him trying to get into the locked desk that he had been told contained baseball cards. He would have argued with her, but let's be fucking honest: He was out in the middle of a swamp hunting lost baseball paraphernalia for a man who had somehow come to the conclusion that the sport was a gladiatorial deathmatch, and in exchange he would be getting a bunch of bottlecaps. That pretty much _was_ dorkdom personified, though the fact people used bottlecaps for money now made it a little better.

A _little_.

"I'm not a dork," he said, by way of a counter. He wasn't good at this.

"Moe is a dork. You're here working for him. That makes you a dork's dork," Piper said cheerfully, noticeably not helping.

"He's paying me. Looking for a baby takes money. Especially considering the closest thing the world has to police now is one robot who thinks he's Sam Spade."

"I don't know what that means, but I bet Nick would get all snappy at you for it," Piper said. She still wasn't helping. The bobby pin that Nate was using as a lockpick snapped off, and he hissed in frustration when she giggled.

"You know, you could give me a hand."

"I could."

"But you're not going to."

"Also true!"

"Is there a reason for this?"

"Someone's gotta be a lookout, Blue. I'm helping with my _eyes_ ," Piper said, grinning infectiously. "Also, teasing you. Because Moe Cronin is, and nothing against the guy personally, nice enough sort, Diamond City's better off with him keeping the guards in decent weapons, a _giant_ nitwit. And you're his errand boy. And I'm never going to let you forget it. Doooooork."

"I hate you."

"You love me."

Nate felt something in the pit of his stomache freeze over, but kept the tone of his voice light as he said, "You say that, but you're the one standing behind me enjoying the view while I bend over a locked safe."

Piper coughed, apparently choking on thin air. "Well. I. This is like… swamp and… mirelurks could be nearby. That's what I was looking at. Not… things. You! Not that," she said. "… Not that you're not worth looking at! I'm not saying you're ugly or anything, you're… well, _fit_ , I mean, but… I mean… … … mirelurks."

Nate smiled even as he felt a surge of intense guilt. Piper talked a big game, but she seemed to be that rarest of things: a beautiful woman who totally had no clue at all she was beautiful. The end result of people ostracizing her for her newspaper, he supposed; gossips were rarely popular, and a gossip who literally printed the worst secrets she found and gave them out to everyone had to earn enemies.

It was their loss. Getting to know Piper past the brash, teasing, reporter façade showed she was, possibly, the single sweetest, kindest, most caring person in the world, an incredibly gentle soul who hated the world the way it was and so dedicated her life to trying to improve it any way she could.

And that was why he felt so happy being around her, and that was also why he felt like his blood was freezing over every time she smiled.

Because dammit all, it had only been a few _weeks_ since the loss of everything he had ever known. But when she said 'you love me' to counter his mock anger, he wasn't entirely certain she was _wrong._

(*)

Diamond City generally sucked, as far as Nate was concerned. The inhabitants were a bunch of paranoid jerks who treated everyone outside their walls like they were expendable, and the rich ones extended this attitude to the ones _inside_ the walls. Also, they were consistently pretty dickish to Piper, but he was trying _really hard_ to pretend that didn't make his blood boil right now, for personal reasons.

Still, Bobrov's Best moonshine was about the only newly-made drink he'd been able to find in the Wastes that tasted like alcohol instead of paint thinner (which, ironic, because he was pretty sure he'd seen Vadim pouring actual paint thinner into the stills once). So if you needed to get drunk and ponder the universe, the Dugout Inn was as good a place as any.

Hancock agreed, so he had decided to come along and ponder too. He technically wasn't allowed in the city, but he didn't seem to let that stop him and nobody had tried to kill him yet. It was probably okay.

"So I gotta ask, Hancock," Nate said, taking another gulp and enjoying the burn and numbness it brought in equal measure. "I gotta ask. How soon is _too soon,_ y'know?"

Hancock pondered this. "Wanna do some Jet?"

"What? No. Why would you even."

"Because you ain't makin' a lot of sense already, so I figure: might as well get high and take that all the way to the bank, y'know?"

"I asked a serious question man. It was _real_. A _real question_ what I needa know the answer. And you're like… not helping."

"You didn't say what was too soon."

" _Piper_ is too soon."

"You kidding? She couldn't be on time to save her life. I mean, that's 'cause people keep locking her out of town, but…"

"She's too soon for _me_. And that's _weird,_ Hancock. It's weird that it's happening too soon. Everything is _sooner_ and I wanna make it _later_ but it's _hard,_ man."

"… How many of these did you drink before I got here?"

"Seven," Nate said, holding up three fingers.

"Okay. Okay. Brother, you need to stop drinking that swill," Hancock said. "And _start_ taking a bunch of drugs. It will help you _focus._ "

"For the last time, I _don't take_ _Jet_ , Hancock."

"Duh. Mentats. The _mind-helper_."

"I should have brought Nick."

"He doesn't drink. Robot."

"He'd have helped. Not tried to pump me up with chemicals," Nate said, taking another swig of his moonshine without apparent irony. "Now I need you to not do drugs. And gimme wisdom. The wisdom of the _ages_. Ghouls are old, right?"

"Some of them are. I'm actually only like forty."

"That's older than me, you ass. _What do I do_?!"

Hancock considered this. "I dunno. Bang Piper?"

Nate paused to consider this.

Five minutes later, after he had finished punching Hancock in the face, he wandered out of the bar and headed down an alley. For many people this would be a bad idea, but Nate had something of a reputation in the local community, in the sense that since coming to the future he had killed a _lot_ of people. Turned out the Commonwealth had a lot of people who liked to just dress up like the extras at really rapey biker snuff film and kill everyone, and Nate in turn was oddly good at shooting them.

It was kind of weird. He was pretty sure they were shooting him, but it didn't really hurt that much, so maybe future guns just sucked.

Seeing the sign for Valentine's Detective Agency, he stomped in and shouted. "Niiiiiick! I _need_ your _assistance!_ "

A flung vase smashed into his head, then, and it was about what he had come to expect from the world as things went very black.

(*)

"Y'know, ya didn't have to kill him."

"He broke into the office at one in the morning, screaming his lungs out! He scared the Hell out of me! Besides, he isn't _dead_ , Detective Dramatic."

"Still a client, Ellie. Concussions make it hard for 'em to pay."

"You don't take money half the time anyway. Because you're a big softie, and you don't need to buy anything. You don't _eat._ Some of us eat, Nick. Some of us need those caps for food."

"You're usually nicer than this."

" _I'm very nervous!_ "

"Could you two please stop screaming?" Nate muttered, opening his eyes very slowly to make the pain hopefully not spike up horribly. It didn't work.

"Only if you explain why you wandered into my office drunk off your ass and scared my secretary into hitting you with a vase," Nick Valentine, synthetic man, detective, and generally nice guy if you didn't get him snarking, said. "'Cause gotta be honest, I have some regrets on this whole situation. That was a real nice vase. And your mug was ugly enough before it took six pounds of clay to the jaw."

"I… um… needed advice."

"And it couldn't wait until morning?" asked Nick's secretary, Ellie Perkins. She didn't seem happy for… some reason. Nate wasn't sure why, but he suspected his short-term memory wasn't the greatest at the moment. Something about a jar?

"… Hancock was involved."

"Ah. That explains a lot," Nick admitted. "Well, it's okay. I mean, none of us here sleep."

" _I sleep, Nick_."

"Ellie normally sleeps, but she's working extreme overtime. Also I let her live here, so she needs to stop being mean," Nick corrected.

"… Mean is making me sort case files past midnight, robo-jerk," Ellie muttered, wandering off.

"She's tired," Nick said apologetically. "Now. While Hancock doing anything at all _does_ lead to wandering around drunk, I need you to explain the _exact_ connection here."

"The connection is _love!_ " Hancock crowed, slamming the door open with dramatic timing and a smarmy, smarmy grin. Another hurled vase slammed immediately into his right temple, sending him down like a ton of bricks.

Nick sighed. "Ellie, if you keep smashing my friends, I'm gonna have to stop letting you decorate the office."

"It's cool, it's cool. I did about three hits of Buffout, then one of Mentats ta make me smart for this conversation, washed it down with Buffjet, then I made a new drug called 'Whiskeybuff' and drank some of that," Hancock said, rising back to his feet with frankly unnatural smoothness. "I think you could actually cut off my head right now and I wouldn't feel it."

"Well, ya don't need your head for anything, so that's actually fair."

"Sure I need it! There's tons of stuff you need a mouth for."

"Like explaining?"

"Hancock. Don't. I'm still thinking this over and I don't want anyone rushing anything before I'm completely ready," Nate warned. "Just don't say anything, and when I'm not hungover and my head isn't broken, I'll think things through and handle it as logically as I can. Please."

Hancock considered this. "Boss-man wants to bang Piper."

" _What did I just say?!_ "

"Love ain't logical, boss. I'm helping."

Nick chuckled. "I'd say 'Piper is trouble,' but Garvey tells me you once used a minigun ripped off a vertibird to duel a deathclaw. You seem to like trouble. And she's a good kid. Crazy, but good. She deserves better than she gets from life. Good for you two."

"No! Not good!" Nate snapped. "For God's sake, I was married two months ago. I have a missing child. This isn't the time!"

Hancock patted him on the back helpfully. "There ain't no 'time' for this sorta thing, boss. The heart wants what it wants. Sometimes it wants Buffout. Sometimes it wants Jet. Sometimes it wants Mentats. Sometimes…"

"I'm serious, you ass."

"So am I! I think my heart literally might stop beating if I don't do drugs pretty much daily," Hancock said. "It's a body chemistry thing, you know? My organs don't work normal anymore. But my point is, women are like drugs. You don't get to decide when you want them. They decide for you, and then you take a hit, and you get addicted, and your life just gets _weird_ because they make you miserable but you can't live without them. So… bang Piper, is my point."

"What Hancock is saying, in his own entirely wrong way," Nick said, "Is that people don't get to decide what they feel. And given that the world is pretty awful, you might as well go for something that makes you feel happy when you have the chance."

"But…"

"No buts!" Hancock said, pulling Nate to his feet and patting him on the back with enough force to immediately knock him over again. "Nick. Gather the team! We need to get this man laid."

"It's a little more complicated than that. Also, I think you knocked him out again."

Hancock waved this off. "Getting laid ain't complicated. Trying to _make_ it more complicated is why he's such a pussy. The team can do this better without him. He's gonna wake up naked in bed with Piper and three hookers, and he'll be a happy man."

"… You kinda creep me out sometimes, Hancock."

"Whiskeybuff," Hancock said with quiet dignity, "is a Hell of a drug."

(*)

Nate opened his eyes, and then snapped them shut immediately as his head made him deeply regret it. "Oh God. Concussed. Concussed _and_ hung over, God…"

"Morning, General. Feeling better?"

 _Preston? I did not fall asleep near Preston. Did I? God, how drunk was I?_ He wondered through the hideous throbbing.

"Valentine and Hancock dragged you back to Sanctuary while you were unconscious. They said you got attacked by a dozen deathclaws?"

"Um… yeah. That is probably what happened. And then they laid eggs inside my skull that hatched and ate my brain."

"HA! Always did have a weird sense of humor, sir," Preston said agreeably. "So, I heard about a settlement that needs hel-"

"Oh, oops, headache, need fresh air!" Nate said, suddenly remembering why he made it a _practice_ to not be near Preston when it was possible to avoid doing so. His head hurt, yes, but that was better than his _mind_ hurting. He stormed out of the shelter into the familiar yet _terribly unfamiliar_ Sanctuary Hills…

And blinked.

"Um. Hi. Everyone."

" **Strong greets human. Strong called to help by metal man and melty face. Strong enraged."**

"Don't listen to him. He's just shy," MacReady said with a shrug. "Also cannibalistic, but nobody's perfect."

" **Human meat delicious.** "

Codsworth sniffed, or at least made a delicate sort of sniffing sound with his speakers. "A questionable assertion, Mr. Strong. I daresay a fine roast pheasant paired with a nice red wine would-"

" **Strong also try eating robot. Need iron in diet.** "

"Would you permit me to take some blood samples after you have eaten Codsworth, monsieur? I wish to confirm if your mutations allow you to digest heavy metals," Curie chirped.

"I could help you dissect him," Danse muttered, sitting a noticeably extra distance from the rest of the team. Nobody seemed to mind, mostly because nobody liked him except for…

 _Oh God._

"… Is Cait here?" Nate asked with a bit of fear. The team he had gathered in his travels was tough, effective, and generally totally insane. Putting them all in one spot was a recipe for disaster. But if Cait wasn't here, maybe it was salvageable. She was the really fast one, after all, so he could run from the others, and maybe find a Yao Guai to eat him so he wouldn't have to see what happened next…

"Heeeeeeey, sexy," Cait said from behind him, sauntering up. She had blood on her fists. "Sorry I wasn't here to see ye wake up, but a bitch decided ta get mouthy so I fed her some of her own teeth. Just a few, on account a' this being yer town an' we're pals and all."

Nate winced. "Marcy Long, right?"

"She ran, but Cait's just so damn fast," Hancock said cheerfully, he and Nick approaching along with the pit fighter. Nick had the good graces to look embarrassed. Hancock did not. "Now then! We got the whole gang in one spot, and that's a recipe for…"

"Disaster?" Nick asked.

" _Awesomeness._ So it's time to help our fearless leader find love, all! Because together, I know we can either do it, or at least cause a _stupid_ amount of collateral damage trying."

Cait blinked. "So is this an orgy, then?"

"What? No. Why would you even think that."

"Because I don't do mutants. Robots and ghouls, whatever, I'll close me eyes, but I don't trust that big bastard with his hands close to me neck and me havin' no gun handy."

" **Woman is not Strong's type anyway."**

"This was amistake, huh," Nick said sadly.

Hancock cleared his throat. "We ain't here for an… Cait, just stop talking. You know I love you, but you're ruining my moment."

"If you wish to engage in interspecies mating, I am equipped with an on-board camera to help conduct anatomical studies of the act," Curie said helpfully. "Also, my central articulation arm has a vibrator attachment."

"Ya don't say? And ye like… actually know how ta use it?" Cait said, blinking as she apparently considered new information.

"The medical models always were a bit eccentric," Codsworth confirmed.

"Alla you! _Shut!_ _ **Up!**_ _"_ Hancock screamed. "We are _here_ to help the boss bang Piper all romantic-like, and you're just ruining the _romance_ of it!"

"Oh God," Nate said.

"See, look how happy he is!"

"Can't blame him. Have ye met Piper?" Cait said with a pleased sigh. "That _arse_."

"She is a sweetheart, general," Preston agreed. "I'd be glad to help you win her over, you two seem to really make each other happy. So I heard about a settlement that needs-"

"Oh, this is _wonderful_ news, sir! You have been so listless with the missus gone and poor Shaun missing. If I can help you to find some shred of that lost domestic bliss you once had, by all means," Codsworth said.

"Eh, I'm not busy," MacReady said.

" **Strong seeks the blood of his foes."**

"Strong says he'll help too."

"And that's a majority vote, so we're doin' this!" Hancock said.

"Must we?" Nate asked.

"Shhhhhhh. Just leave everything to me. I'm a ghoul, I know all about pre-war romance."

"No you don't! You're only like fifty years old, you're not a pre-war ghoul!"

"Yeah, but if we let _you_ do it, you're just gonna pussy out," Hancock said. "That's why we have team one, who is here to keep you distracted. Preston, you're team one. Take the dog with you, he's running around somewhere chasing radroaches I think. Nothing against the mutt, but I think he isn't the most romantic."

"What? But how could _I_ keep the general distracted?" Preston asked.

"… So, let's say hypothetically I asked you if a settlement needed help. What would you answer?"

"Well, I actually have a list of thirteen of them that… _ooooooooooh,_ I get it."

"Good boy. Cait, Strong, MacReady, you're team two."

"How come we gotta be team two? I wanna be team one," Cait said.

"No, Preston and Dogmeat are team one."

"Feck that, Preston sucks and Dogmeat's a dog. We're more one than they are," Cait said firmly. "I ain't helping if I can't be team one."

" _Fine._ You can be team one, Preston and Dogmeat are team alpha."

"Like Hell! You don't make us team one and then give them a cooler name, that's just cheap," MacReady interjected. " _We_ get to be team alpha."

" **Strong would rather be Team Strong**."

"Strong agrees with me."

"Now, now," Nick said in a conciliatory tone. "I'm sure we can get this done quick and quiet, no problems."

 _ **Three hours later…**_

"Okay. Preston, Dogmeat, and Nate," Hancock said, his words slightly slurred from fatigue and probably some drugs, but with an air of unassailable finality. "You guys are Team Omega Plus. Your job is to do whatever keeps you out of everyone else's hair. Strong, Cait, MacReady, you guys are Team Shadow Viper…"

"Team Shadow Viper _Fang._ "

"Whatever! You guys have to get old world romance stuff. He's gonna need the works. Candles, wine, romantic flowers. An' I mean _real_ alla that stuff. No candles made from mutant earwax or some shit, and definitely no flowers that try to eat people."

"Those are a thing?"

"I guess they have 'em in the Mojave, and that means it's only a matter of time. Curie and Codsworth, you're team Prime Burning Rage…"

"Actually, I kinda want to change names with them."

" _MacReady I will shoot you in the face."_

"Jeez, sorry."

"Anyway! Robots! We need a reservation at the best restaurant in the Commonwealth."

"Define 'best,' Sir?" Codsworth said with some distaste. "I've been living here for some centuries, and I've certainly never found anywhere I would call polite dining."

"That is our job to discover, monsieur Codsworth," Curie said cheerfully. "Think of ze exploration we shall be doing. Ze testing of foodstuffs for contamination alone shall be ze most excitement you shall ever know!"

Codsworth sighed. "Medical models. Flighty. _And French,_ which is perhaps worse."

"Do not worry, monsieur, I have not been programmed with national pride, and so your comments do not bother me!" Curie continued. "For science, we go!"

"And finally, the most important part of it all," Hancock interjected. "Team Supreme Overlord's Shining Lightning Sword. Me, the uptight metal dick… and Nick."

"Hey!" Danse said.

"We got the real job. We gotta get Piper ready for the date, an' we gotta do it sneaky-like so it's a surprise," Hancock said, ignoring his unhappiness.

"Or you could just ask her," Nate grumbled. "Or, hey, we could not do this because it's insane and not what I wanted at all. Maybe even accept I wanted to move forward at my own pace, and none of this will help. But that won't stop you people, will it? Nothing will stop you people."

"That's 'cause we love ya, bro," Hancock said cheerfully. "We're like a big family. An' family is all about knowing what's best for people and shoving it down their throat against their will while they scream."

"… I hate to agree with that, but I lived through enough family Thanksgivings to know it's actually a pretty apt description."

 **OPERATION START**

 _ **Team: Omega Plus**_

"Arf! Arf arf!" Dogmeat said.

"Good boy," Nate said. "You're the only one I can actually trust, you know."

"They mean well, General. And who knows, this may be just what you need. The love of a good woman is a hell of a thing," Preston said cheerfully. "Or a good man, who has been there and supported you since the very beginning."

"What?"

"Nothing. Hey, I heard about a settlement that needs help! Let's go there. Together. Just like we always have been and always will be."

 _ **Team: Shadow Viper Fang**_

"Okay," MacReady said. "Cait is a drugged out hobo and Strong is a giant monster, so I'm guessing I'm the only one here who's ever done anything romantic?"

"I once killed a guy with a chair," Cait said.

" **Delightful coincidence! Strong too has done that."**

"Yeah, that's about what I thought. Well, we'll keep this basic then. Cait, we need wine. And I mean like, _real_ wine. Pre-war wine. Can't have anything dead in the bottle at all."

"Oh, sure, why not just ask me ta find water what ain't fulla radiation? There ain't no wine left in the whole world!"

"Yes there is. We find bottles of it scattered around all the damn time. Can't practically go through a pre-war ruin without finding pre-war booze."

"… Yeah, but I was plannin' ta just keep it all fer meself and give them a bottle a' cheap moonshine."

"See, that shit is why I'm leader now. There's an old social club near the commons, right? They have all kinda fancy booze, I bet. Go get a bottle and come back. Strong, buddy, you're dangerously insane so I figure you're a good bet to pick flowers in the woods. Less likely to run into people."

" **Strong has questions."**

"… Do I want to answer them?"

" **Strong thinks instead of flowers, raw heart of Yao Guai would be more romantic. Strong wonders if it would be okay to find great beast, eat its flesh, and bring mighty heart back for show love?** "

"So… no. No, I didn't want to answer that," MacReady said with a sigh. "How about this. You find some flowers, and you can kill that Yao Guai and eat its heart for yourself. How does that sound?"

" **Admittedly more delicious.** "

"So you like?"

" **Strong likes**."

"Kick ass. I'm on candle duty. Can't be that hard. Go team!"

 _ **Team: Prime Burning Rage**_

"Please. Reservations? At the Colonial Taphouse?! You disgust me, sir. I shall have you know that as a four-star establishment we do not and shall never serve… _robots_ ," Wellingham said with as close to a sneer of disgust as one could manage without a face.

"… … … You _are_ a robot," Codsworth said.

"And I am pleased to state that should I come here expecting to be served, I should be turned away like the lower-class scum I am. Indeed, I am myself the one _doing_ the serving, which I proudly do without pay. I do not call myself a slave only because language like that upsets the fine aristocrats who make up our _very exclusive_ clientele," Wellingham said. "Now, would you like to _work_ here?"

"No, we-"

"Well you _can't._ Lower-class robots who serve commoners would only upset the appetites of our _**very exclusive**_ clientele, who come here expecting to be served only by the highest-class of servant, which is not you, filthy domestic model that you are. Now do you see how ridiculous it is that thought you might get a reservation here to _be_ served, when you are so lowly as to not even be acceptable as a slave in this place of fine, fine breeding? You sicken me."

"… So your core processor has experienced a rampant programming cascade, driving you totally insane, then?"

" _ **Very. Exclusive. Clientele.**_ "

Codsworth sighed, regretting that his politeness protocols prevented him from turning his flamethrower on the uppity bastard unless a threat was made to his actual life. Honestly, the models made for public service were always a bit overbearing, acting like they were somehow better than the humble domestic servant just because they worked in a fancy restaurant, when it should have been clear to anyone that working in a loving home with a kind family made the domestic servants inherently superior to all other Mr. Handy models.

They were probably just jealous.

"Well, that was a lot of nothing," Codsworth grumbled. "I do not suppose you have a plan, miss?"

"I have considered injecting smallpox into the café's food stores, thus lowering ze size of ze waiting list for a reservation. Do not worry, I have formulated a treatment program zat is 83% effective in preventing fatalities from zis strain of a ze virus," Curie said.

"… Are you quite certain you are a doctor, miss Curie?"

"Of course, monsieur! I was programmed wiz all the medical ethics of the finest Vault-tec researchers. Zat is why I love to help people!" Curie said indignantly. "Now, about ze smallpox."

"Well, while I am certain it _would_ free up some reservation space, I do not believe it would fix the core issue: as robots, we are simply being discriminated against by this society. I suspect even if this shoddy restaurant were totally empty, that insufferable waiter wouldn't allow us to make an appointment for the master and his new young love."

"Zen perhaps we need to acquire an agent, monsieur. One who can make ze reservation for us, in exchange for services rendered on our part."

"An astute observation, miss!"

"And should no candidate become obvious, we can threaten him wiz ze smallpox! He will, of course, 'ave an 83% chance of survival, but he will know nothing of zis. I am told zis is called a 'bluff.'"

"You worry me, miss."

 _ **Team:**_ _ **Supreme Overlord's Shining Lightning Sword**_

A ghoul, a synth, and a Paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel walked into a bar. There's no joke here, it was just a thing that happened.

"Now, I'm not saying that the water supply has corpses in it, Yefim, but Shen is shady as Hell, so if you could just…" Piper began, before blinking in confusion at the sound of thousand-pound power armor stomping behind her.

"Ms. Wright," Danse said. "We're here for you."

"Wow. Subtle," Nick sighed.

"… So is this a hit? Because I know I might've pissed off some people with the paper, but I can't imagine any article that would have made all three of you angry enough to kill me," Piper said, blinking. "How much did they offer you? I don't have money, but I can publish. Nick, want some free ads? Hancock, I can start up a like, drugs for ghouls program, and Danse… well, some kind of dating ad? You could really stand to get laid, but you haven't got a personality so you might need help with that."

"We're not here to kill you, jeez," Hancock said.

"I might," Danse muttered.

"Danse might, but nobody likes him," Hancock agreed.

"So… I _did_ write an article that made you all angry, then?"

"Why do you assume we're angry at you?"

"Mostly when people come to find me in groups, they're doing the whole lynch mob thing. I don't have a lot of friends."

"I'm a cop," Nick protested.

"Technically speaking, you're a robot who _talks_ like a cop. And I've got a theory you could be like, reprogrammed into an assassin droid."

"… Did you _publish that_? Dammit, Piper, is _that_ why that one crazy lady in the market won't let me shop at her stall?"

"Nooooooooo," Piper said, waving it off. "I like you. You're nice. Would never publish an article without evidence, haha, that would be immoral. Even if I didn't really know you yet and my first sight of you at the time had been you coming out of a dark alley with your eyes glowing. I'm not a fear monger!"

"She absolutely is a fear monger," Yefim offered from his usual spot near the door to the inn's rooms. "You want copy of paper, Nick? Got it framed. Great story, all about robot wars. Says you have laser eyes."

"You inexplicably Russian _traitor,_ " Piper hissed.

"Oh, that's _cold,_ Wright," Nick said. "I thought we were pals. But here you are. Out to _get me_."

"I didn't mention you by name! I used a false identity to protect the innocent."

"She called you Schmick Schmalentine," Yefim offered.

"Oh, _come on_!" Nick and Piper said in unison, presumably for different reasons.

"This is stupid. You're all stupid," Danse said. "I'm taking control of this operation. Piper Wright, you are to come with us. You will be made beautiful."

"… … What."

"Operation confirmed," Danse said, reaching down to literally lift Piper off her feet and throw her over his shoulder, kicking and screaming.

Nick and Hancock watched him go. "So… that power armor _is_ useful, huh. Like, for carrying stuff," Hancock said, eventually. "Wanna call phase one of the plan a success?"

"Schmick Schmalentine?" Nick muttered. "Kiss my metal ass, Wright. I hope Danse's idea of 'pretty' is rusty Brotherhood armor."

"I'm just gonna call it a success."

 _ **Team: Omega Plus**_

The submachine gun was called, apparently, 'Spray and Pray.' It was known as this because it was chambered for explosive rounds, and therefore actually hitting something wasn't always necessary to do horrible, horrible damage. It was not a weapon that should be in the hands of someone who was psychologically impaired in any way.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Nate laughed madly, hosing down the raiders as they ran away in terror from his wrath. One fell, his leg blown cleanly off, and Nate poured a dozen more rounds into his back as he screamed. " _Get some, you sons of bitches! Geeeeeeeet soooooooooome!"_

"You, uh. You seem tense, General," Preston said, eyes wide.

"I'm frustrated, Preston. I'm in a bad place, emotionally," Nate said, watching as the last Raider fled, limping. He put away his gun… and pulled out another, larger gun. One with a scope. "Turns out that this sort of thing is pretty cathartic. Notice any wind resistance? I'm gonna shoot that guy's head off."

"Um, sir, he seems to be running away…"

"He's a Raider, Preston. If you spare them, they just run until they find power armor and then come back. Taking the shot!" Nate said cheerfully, firing. The Raider fell, but his head stayed attached. "Dammit. Knew I should have taken that Bloody Mess perk, that wasn't as satisfying as it could have been."

"What?"

"Nothing," Nate said quickly. "Say, Preston, I wanna thank you. I normally try to avoid you, but this was exactly what I needed. Some mindless violence aimed against people who are pointlessly evil really is what the doctor ordered."

"Well, General, you know how much I care about you…r well-being," Preston said. "I want you to be happy. Always. Because we've been together so long, and we're so close, and… wait, what was that first part?"

"Oh, about avoiding you? I thought you knew. Everyone does it."

"What?! Why?!"

"… Say, Preston, we saved that settlement. What would you like to do now?"

"Well, I have heard about a settlement that needs help."

"And there it is. Dude, you have no life outside the Minutemen. People find it off-putting."

"… Really?"

"Did you not notice?"

"Well, I mean, I guess some people say things, but I mostly stop listening unless they're talking about the Minutemen."

"Yes, which is kind of my point. The Minutemen are great, but-"

"They _are_ great!" Preston said. "I've been one since I was a kid, you know. They used to protect all the settlements in the Commowealth, you know. In fact, I know about a settlement right now that needs help, we should go there!"

"No. No, stop that. Preston, I need to keep my mind off of what our friends are doing, and _you_ need to stop being a tedious stick in the mud. So I'm going to teach you how to have a personality. By the time we're done, you might even be capable of befriending someone."

"… Aren't you my friend, general?"

Nate coughed. "Um… sure. Yeah, that's… yeah."

"I mean, we're so close… and we've been through so much… like the time we saved The Castle together. And the time we saved Jamaica Plain together. And the time we saved Kingsport Lighthouse together. And the time we-"

"Yeah, see, when you talk like that, it gets harder to believe that you don't know what I'm talking about. Come with me, I'm gonna jam some personality into you, Garvey."

"Sir, you can jam whatever you want into me."

"What?"

"Nothing."

 _ **Team: Shadow Viper Fang**_

Cait sighed. "Well now. Ain't this a kick in the arse?"

She had found the club that MacReady had directed her toward, and that was good. It was a bit too near the Commons for her liking, mostly on account of old Swan in the pond nearby, but Cait could be quick and quiet when she had the inkling. She'd even found quite a bit of the wine she'd been sent after, and hadn't drank any of it, because she was a good girl.

Also, all of it was poisoned; every single bottle in the whole blasted damn club full of bitter-smelling blackness that didn't match alcohol at all. That was also a factor.

"Feckin' pre-War bastards an' their pre-War bastard suicide," Cait said. "Everybody an' their damn mother thought they were gonna die just 'cause of some nukes and they all go off an' kill themselves. And I wouldn't even care, but why did they haveta poison _all_ the booze?! Was what they actually drank not enough fer some reason?!"

"The ways of humans are strange indeed."

Cait sighed. "I dinnae know who ye are. But ye better explain why the sneakin' around, because I have a shotgun and I ain't known fer me friendly nature."

"My name is... Xavier. Xavier… Human," said the man who had snuck up the stairs behind her as quietly as a cat on the prowl. He was dark-skinned, handsome in a creepy sorta way, and wore a long black leather coat and mirrored shades. Indoors. In a building with no lights.

"Xavier Human," Cait said.

"That is my human name, yes."

"So yer a Synth, then?"

"… No. I am a human, composed entirely of disgusting flesh, bearing no mechanical components to set me above the filth of the Commonwealth," he said.

"Uh…huh."

"As a human resident of the Commonwealth, I occasionally encounter issues I cannot personally deal with, because I am inferior. In such cases, I am authorized to outsource the matter to mercenaries such as yourself."

"Authorized by who?" Cait asked.

"By human free will, which as a human I possess."

"… Right. Well, I ain't lookin' fer work right now. Doin' some kinda thing what is supposed ta make me boss and the sexy reporter hook up, which I personally am all for on account a' that would make it easier ta get that threesome I been tryin' ta line up. But I'm supposed ta be findin' wine or something ta get them drunk enough to shag, and it's been a mess all through the day."

"I failed to mention. I will not be paying you in the worthless bottlecaps that society chooses to consider currency. I will be paying you… _with this._ "

The man reached into his coat, and Cait's mouth went dry. What he pulled out was a bottle of wine. No, not merely wine. It was wine that _shone_ with age and vigor. Wine that seemed to glow from within, the deep, almost black redness of it still somehow bright enough to be nearly shimmering through the opaque bottle.

"This is Screaming Eagle Cabernet Sauvignon 1992. Before the war, it was the most expensive red wine in the entire world. This may very well be the last bottle on the planet _._ In terms of human wines for humans, there will never be a superior beverage to inspire the procreative romance you pointlessly value. If you will perform a task for me that I cannot become publicly involved in, I will provide you this bottle for whatever purpose you require."

"I… that… yes. Yeah, I can…" she paused. "Wait, how did you know ta have that ready? How did you know I would be lookin' for wine?"

"Well, it certainly wasn't because my associates have been spying on your leader since he awoke in the Vault and began his journey," Xavier Human, totally a human person and not Synth Courser serial number X6-88 at all, said firmly.

"… Eh, I'll take it."

(*)

"So about these candles, Myrna," MacReady said, looking at the candles at her booth in Diamond City. "They're not real romantic."

"Are so!"

"They have blood on them."

"Candles are made of blood."

"No. They're made of wax, see? And wax can have a lot of sources, but most of them aren't bleeding."

"Look. There ain't much call for candles in the world these days," Myrna said with a shrug.

"Did you just seriously try to tell me that people don't have any need to buy light sources that don't run on electricity? In a post-apocalypse?"

"… Okay, look," Myrna said. "You know Synths?"

"I've _heard_ about them, yes."

"Well. I know you don't know this. You ain't a synth. You're an okay guy," Myrna said, her tone dropping to a stage whisper. "But candles? Synths love them. They draw 'em in."

"… What."

"There used to be a store here that sold candles. Lots of them. Real nice ones. Smelled like fruit and stuff. And every day, _every day,_ that Synth detective would walk right by it. Every day. Coincidence? _I think not_."

MacReady began to realize why Piper called her 'crazy Myrna' in casual conversation. "Okay, so I'll go to him."

"You can't. I burned his store down," Myrna said, a strange light in her eyes. "And ever since I did, the Synth hasn't gone _anywhere near it_. Is that a coincidence, I ask you?! _IS IT?!"_

"… No. Because why would anyone go to a store that was burned down?"

Myrna narrowed her eyes. "Sounds like the kind of question a Synth would ask. You know what? Get outta my store. We're closed."

"But-"

" _WE'RE CLOSED._ " She snarled, and he thought for a second he saw her eyes glow with eldritch light.

"… Ooooookay."

MacReady walked away from the stand of the devil, not entirely sure what to do now. If he was the only one of the team who didn't get what he was out to find, that would be embarrassing as all Hell, considering Cait was the town drunk and Strong was, well, Strong. But he needed some damn romantic accoutrements, and all he had found was lumps of bloody earwax. Maybe Goodneighbor, or…

"Wow, that was weird, huh? Some people are just _bizarre._ "

MacReady jumped halfway out of his skin, but only on the inside. Mercenary instincts took over and he was spinning with his gun raised before the sentence was finished, to find a smiling, unassuming man with sunglasses standing behind him.

"Hi!" the man said. "I couldn't help but notice you talking to ol' Melna back there, and as a native of Diamond City…"

"Her name is Myrna."

"… I felt that Myrna was treating you _badly._ And you know, in Diamond City, we have a motto. 'Help the oppressed,' that's our motto."

"… is it?"

"It probably is! You shouldn't ask questions!" the man said, adjusting his shades with a brilliant smile. "So since you're oppressed, I'mma help you. How, you ask? In true Diamond City fashion, I'm going to hire you for a job. That's what we call giving the oppressed a leg up here in the Great Green Something of the Commonwealth."

"… Jewel. It's the Great Green Jewel of…"

"Shhhh, stop thinking. Just listen to my words and let your mind shut down," the man said soothingly. "You're the one who ran with the Gunners for awhile, so that should come naturally if you just draw up those old instincts."

"How did you know ab-"

"Well, it sure wasn't because I've been spying on your boss for months! That would be _creepy_ ," the man said, still smiling. "Word just gets around, that's all. Word like you guys randomly just stopping everything to set up a romantic dinner for your boss because you're a pack of confusing lunatics. That's okay, though, I _like_ confusing lunatics. They can be steered."

"Wh-"

"My name is Phineas Merrimont Peppercorn, and I am the owner of the Most Romantic Candles on Earth," the man said. "Behold."

MacReady's jaw dropped as the man produced the Most Romantic Candle on Earth. It was… it was beautiful. Pure white, seeming to glow with a beautiful inner light. Set into a silver candlestick that shone like a mirror. No flaws, no dribbles on the sides, its wick still perfect and un-lit. Any woman who ate a candlelit dinner lit by this candle would fall in love from the sheer perfection of the shining flames it produced.

"It's… magnificent," MacReady admitted. "You… you have more than one?"

" _Four."_

"My God."

"And I will give them to you for one, tiny, simple little escort job. It will take you ten minutes and almost definitely won't get you assassinated by a Courser that may or may not have tagged the drop site, but it's too late in the mission to change routes now. Don't worry, though, this totally doesn't involve the Railroad at all. Sounds awesome, right? The answer is yes."

"That was a _really_ specific reassurance."

Deacon smiled. "Just your imagination."

(*)

Strong tore the heart from the dead Yao Guai, hosting it aloft over his head and letting the blood flow over him as he absorbed the beast's strength.

" **Great Yao Guai spirit, Strong has taught you** _ **FEAR!**_ **Strong has taught you how to** _ **DIE!**_ **Strong! Is!** _ **MIGHTY!**_ **"** he roared.

Well, at least someone was having fun.

 _ **Team: Prime Burning Rage**_

"I do not believe this is going to work, Ms. Curie," Codsworth said.

"Of course it shall work, my friend. I am a doctor, after all."

"I fail to see how that applies to the current situation."

"Soon, mon ami. Soon," Curie said cheerfully. "Greetings, monsieur Vellinkham! I have come now to make human reservations at your human restaurant."

"As I told you before, robots are not _welcome_ at this establishment, save as 'indentured servants,' which is nothing more than the polite ways of saying 'slave' so that our _Very Exclusive Clientele_ are not put off their _Refined Appetites._ You will _begone_ or I shall have you _killed_ ," Wellingham said.

"Ah, but zis is where you are mistaken, sir. For as you see by zis expensive hat I now wear," Curie said, pointing at a lacy bonnet atop her white metal dome, "I am in fact a wealthy human patron!"

"And I… ugh… am her butler," Codsworth said obediently.

"… … …" Wellingham said, his processors apparently not entirely sure how to deal with this statement.

"Oui, I was speechless too. But what ozzer explanation could zere be?"

"T…that you're a robot wearing a hat?"

"Zat would be silly, monsieur. As we all know, robots do not wear clothing. Zey are made of metal."

"… You… _are_ made of metal…"

"Zat is just my jewelery, monsieur. It is beautiful, _non_? Quite expensive, yet I was able to purchase it with my wealth."

"Quite… quite so, madam. Your amazing wealth is… just the greatest," Codsworth said, each word of it sounding like he craved his own death. "Who else but you would be wealthy enough to… to buy jewelry that looked so similar to a Miss Nanny model that it could confuse others when worn? Thank God for your… your expensive hat, which confirms you must be… uuuuugh… a human woman."

"Thank you for zis summary, my loyal robot butler. I am glad we are so close, despite my humanity not being ze same as your robot innards."

"I… well. This has been enlightening," Wellingham said. "Apparently bizarre program glitches really do just… take all kinds. But I'm afraid that I am not a complete moron, unlike certain other models in the area, and I would literally sooner _burn this city to the ground_ than allow you to be served in this establishment. Am I understood?"

"Ah. My deception has not succeeded?" Curie asked, sounding a little sad. "I was quite proud of it."

"It was just a hat, Miss Curie," Codsworth said, actually sounding a bit relieved this hadn't worked.

"Oui, but a quite nice hat. I thought it made me look cheerful and bright," Curie said. "Alas, I suppose we will have to proceed to my second plan."

"You had a second _DEAR LORD!_ "

This last, it must be noted, was because Curie had leveled her self-defense laser at Wellingham at point-blank range and opened fire. The screams of the patrons rang through the air as their waiter had three holes burned through him and collapsed in a mass of smoking circuitry and glowing red metal.

" _Miss Curie! Why!_ " Codsworth screeched in programmed panic. " _That! Why!"_

"Oh look," Curie said cheerfully. "By purest coincidence, zis establishment is now lacking a Mr. Handy to maintain it. I suppose we shall need to provide zem a new one until dear Wellinkham is repaired, _non_? Come, we shall apply you right away!"

"… You know, Miss Curie, it occurs to me that we never tried just saying we were making a reservation _for_ a human customer," Codsworth said as the two robots floated up to the main building, people still hiding under their tables.

"Eh."

 _ **Team Prime Burning Rage: MISSION COMPLETE.**_

 _ **Team:**_ _ **Supreme Overlord's Shining Lightning Sword**_

"Magnificent," Danse said.

"Well, it is… unique," Nick offered.

"Makes a statement," Hancock added.

"I'm gonna fucking kill all three of you," Piper grumbled, though it was hard to hear her through the six inches of metal plating.

The thing was, Paladin Danse had a fairly unique view of beauty. Or the world. Or anything, really. And since he had been placed on a team with a ghoul and a synth, both of whom were disgusting abominations he would one day purge with flame, he only had his own opinions to draw on at this particular juncture.

And his opinions on what the modern, trendsetting woman should wear to a romantic evening? _Power Armor._

(For those interested, Power Armor was also what that same woman should wear for her daily errands, for taking a walk, and for sleeping. Paladin Danse was a Power Armor enthusiast, to put it mildly.)

It had been hard to get her into the old T-45d suit that his young conscript/boss had assembled in Sanctuary's workshop. She struggled a lot, and she was surprisingly strong for her size. But Danse was, like all sensible human beings, wearing Power Armor that increased his natural strength greatly, and therefore made him better able to defend the Brotherhood, fight the forces of evil, and occasionally kidnap young women. For a good cause.

"Miss Wright, you should be happy. You look amazing," Danse said. "I can honestly say that any young apprentice scribe that saw you like this would be in love before he even finished reading the serial number on your shoulder plate."

"You can't even see me, you ass. I just look like a big metal statue."

"… And why is this bad?"

"Oh, you know, it's a little snug in here, kinda warm, and oh hey, _I can't get out._ You locked the fucking entrance panel and took out the fusion core."

"Well, of course," Hancock said. "He realized if you could make the armor move, you'd run away."

"Yes! Because you kidnapped me!"

"Come on, Piper. What part of going to a bar, dragging a woman out, and shoving her into a metal prison is kidnapping?"

" _Every word of that is kidnapping!"_

"Shame you don't have a detective to help you," Nick muttered. "Just lame old killer synth Schmick Schmalentine."

"Geez, Nick, how many times do I have cato apologize for that?" Piper asked.

"Once would be nice."

"… If I apologize it makes it look like I regret sharing the news, man. Try to see it from my perspective."

"If it helps, Nick, her perspective right now is a big dark metal thing. That's basically the inside of your head, so you should be able to see it pretty easy," Hancock said.

"You know what? I'm actually pretty okay with just leaving her like this. How about we just wheel her to the restaurant and leave her there?" Nick asked.

"I… well, I mean, she's not exactly classically beautiful here, guys," Hancock said, banging his hand on the outside of the armor. "We do need to consider what's gonna draw in the mark here, right?"

"Why are you talking about this like it's a con?" Nick asked.

"Love _is_ a con. It's all about being a good enough liar that you can convince someone you're not a fucked-up weirdo and they should have sex with you regularly. Then you keep this up until they're too invested in your life together to back out, and that's called marriage. We just gotta get her pretty enough for her to pull this con off, that's all. She's hot, so she should be able to do it easy."

"What. Are you idiots. _Talking about?!_ " Piper shrieked.

"I agree with Piper," Danse said. "You're clearly wrong, ghoul. She's _already_ beautiful enough to con a man into marriage. Just _look_ at that lead plating increasing her radiation defense. God, I'm tempted to slip a fusion core in there right now just to see it power on. _Hot._ "

"… Okay, you talk about Piper, but this really makes it sound like you want to have sex with the armor she's wearing."

"I wasn't gonna say it," Piper said from inside the armor. "But I was thinkin' it."

"No, no. Of course not," Danse said. "I've already got this suit of T-60 with full Brotherhood mod kits, of course."

"And you don't want to cheat on it?" Hancock asked.

"You can't cheat on Power Armor, ghoul. It isn't alive," Danse said, before looking down at his Power Armor and saying, "Isn't that right, baby? You're not alive. You're _better._ Awwwww yeeeeeeah…"

"Uh…huh. Well, now in addition to feeling hot and claustrophobic, I also feel a little dirty," Piper said. "Can you get me out of this thing before it… I don't know, starts talking about marriage?"

"We probably should. This isn't exactly what the boss was lookin' for, I expect," Nick admitted.

"On the other hand," Hancock said. "This _will_ keep her still. And let's be honest, if we take her out of it, it will be a lot more work for us, right?"

The three of them considered this.

"So, anyone have a forklift to ship her to dinner?" Nick asked.

 _ **Team: Supreme Overlord's Shining Lightning Sword:**_ **MISSION COMPLETE**

 _ **Team: Omega Plus**_

"Well done, Preston. You actually look like a human being now, instead of a mannequin from a historical museum," Nate said, looking at Preston in the closest thing it was possible to acquire to a decent suit in this day and age.

"Are you saying Minutemen uniforms don't look good?" Preston asked in confusion.

"Have you ever seen me wear one?"

"Well, no, but you'd look great in it! So handsome and dashing and the picture of strong, masculine authority."

"HA! Yeah, no, everyone who wears that outfit just looks like a giant dork," Nate said. "I mean, that hat? Come on, man. You look like you're heading to a reenactment staffed entirely by people named 'Mortimer Weaselthorpe.' Basically a dork army."

"… I thought you liked the Minutemen."

"Eh, take 'em or leave 'em," Nate said. "The key thing is that we've made you look awesome. So no we need to get you a date. So what do you like in a girl?"

"… Well. I wouldn't say it's in a 'girl' necessarily," Preston said. "But I like bravery. Loyalty. The willingness to sacrifice for others, and the determination to never give up. Like… like if you lost everything that was precious to you, but you just kept fighting to get it back and never lost your true self to do it. You kept right on saving people and being a beacon of hope while saving your own past and heart as well. That would be… that would be something amazing. I would always… always love someone like that."

"Huh. That's kind of a tall order, bro. Let's try to focus on the obtainable," Nate said, looking around. "Dogmeat! Hey, boy! We need to find Preston a cute girl. Find a cute girl, boy!"

"Woof, woof!" Dogmeat said helpfully.

"I… general are, you… are you seriously letting the dog pick me out someone?" Preston asked.

"He's smart. You'll see, he'll pick you out someone great."

"I… sir. What I've been trying to hint at, is that… well, maybe the person for me is already here?"

"Nobody is here but Dogmeat, Preston. And nothing personal, but you aren't his type," Nate said, patting Preston on the shoulder. "He likes the _ladies_ , doesn't he? Dooooesn't he, boy? Whooooo's a big tough ladies man? Whooooo's a big tough ladies man who likes those pretty girl doggies _?_ You are! You are!"

"Woof, woof!" Dogmeat, who was indeed a big tough ladies man, barked.

"That's my good boy! That's a gooood boy!" Nate said, ruffling his ears. "Now go find Preston a girlfriend, boy. I assume he'll want someone who lives in a settlement that needs help, so try looking for someone who is cute and being mugged. Go get 'em, boy!"

Dogmeat ran off to be the best matchmaker there ever was, Preston started to cry, and Nate said, "Don't worry, bro. Like I said, he's _really_ smart. Realistically, I would trust him to do this more than I trust the rest of the team to successfully do whatever the crap _they're_ doing. At least the worst of the bunch are just getting wine and candles and shit, though. They can't fuck that up _too_ badly."

 _ **Team: Shadow Viper Fang**_

"All right," X6-88 said. "The woman you need to kill is living on the outskirts of Diamond City, in the poor section of town. I do not know exactly where, but you have an image of her appearance. Beware of basic disguises, but she shouldn't have had time to get any sort of surgery yet. I cannot actively attack her due to… my employers… having more subtle plans for this city and its direction. She must be neutralized, but it must appear to be a normal, ordinary crime rather than connected to… my employers."

"An' ya swear you'll gimme that amazin' wine if I just cap this bitch?" Cait asked. "No questions asked?"

"Yes. Much like you have asked very few questions about why I want a woman dead. Disturbingly few, from some perspectives."

"Eh, I figure it's just some Institute shite that I don't really wanna know about anyhow."

"… No. My… employers… are not the Institute, and I am not a Synth Courser model. I am a human, named Xavier Human. Look, look at how inferior and human I am. I could never be a perfect, unstoppable machine in service to the destined saviors of this world. My… employers are likely some kind of inferior, greedy crime syndicate. And the target, G5-87, is not a rogue synth who we wish to neutralize before she can contact the Railroad, who has hindered our efforts by hiding in plain sight near an area we wish to avoid being seen influencing. She is a human woman, named… Debbie. Debbie… Human. Who owes us… … money."

"Hey, whatever you say. As long as I get me booze ta help the boss shag Piper fer love or whatnot, I'm good. Also, I'll need about two thousand caps."

"… Excuse me?"

"Just occurs ta me that I ain't getting much from this. The boss gets to have Piper ram stuff up his arse, Hancock gets to feel like he's helping, but Cait? Cait gets shite. So now, Cait wants ta get paid."

"I don't _have_ two-thousand caps. What possible value could I have for human currency?" X6-88 asked. Then, after a short pause, he added, "Other than, of course, buying human foodstuffs and potable water. For which I have very limited funds."

"Then I guess ya better start drinking Nuka Cola, bitch, 'cause I ain't going down there if I don't get a fortune."

X6-88 considered this, using his advanced human tactical software to consider what he had learned of Cait so far, and discern a tactic. "I will, in addition to wine, also give you two bottles of cheap moonshine made out of fission batteries, mutfruit, and corn."

Cait considered this.

"Damn, ye drive a hard bargain."

(*)

"So there she is," Phineas Merrimont Peppercorn said, ruffling his fantastic hair that was not a wig because Deacon, who was Deacon? "Take a look at her house. Nice house? It is. Go there, get her out of the city without dying, and meet a man named Paramedic in the half-collapsed skyscraper half a mile south of Bunker Hill, where you'll tell him 'The path ahead is rocky, but there's a light at the end.' He'll answer 'That is why we should walk it together,' that's how you know he's the right guy. And I cannot stress this enough, trust _nobody_ except your is definitely a Courser in play here and I may have been made, so you won't see me again. I need to go underground immediately while he tracks me, try to throw him off her trail. I'll leave your reward in a dead drop that Paramedic will give you the location of after you complete the job."

MacReady blinked. "You said you weren't in the Railroad."

"I'm not. This is just a spy game, haha! How hilarious. This will be a lot of fun for everyone involved as we all pretend to be in a secretive life-or-death situation, I'm sure. But for God's sake, keep your head down and watch for snipers. You'll seriously die."

"I'm getting some mixed messages here."

"I'm great at those, yeah," he said, patting MacReady on the shoulder. "Don't worry, though. I would never regard a stranger as disposable. The Railroad doesn't do that unless we do, and I'm not even in that thing I just said."

"… What?"

"Go get 'em, chief!"

MacReady sighed. "Okay. Well. You know what, whatever, I should know by now to stop asking questions. This is not the stupidest thing I've ever done for money."

"You're doing this for candles."

"… Still not the stupidest thing I've ever done, period."

Deacon…erm… Mr. Peppercorn blinked. "Really? That is a pretty low bar, there."

"I used to be the mayor of a town made up of entirely of children who lived in a cave."

"… Seriously?"

"Yeah. Yeah. We… we called adults 'mungos.' I wouldn't let people inside unless they agreed to go off on long annoying sidequests."

"God, that sounds annoying."

"And you needed to go through it to finish the game, too. Thankfully talking to the really whiny, bitchy one was optional, but I mean, still, pretty much all the players hated it."

"…Wait, what?"

"Nothing. Back in a few hours!" MacReady said, turning down an alleyway and heading toward the flat he'd been directed to, whistling a tune at the joy of easy money. Erm, easy candles. The key point was, things were finally, after what was basically an entire life of things going mostly wrong, MacReady was finally seeing things lining up in his favor. It was almost refreshing, really.

He smiled, prepared to knock on the door, and then Cait emerged from another alleyway and started to hose down the house with an assault rifle.

(*)

Strong leaped upon the deathclaw's back, laughing in joy at the delicious pain of the wounds this worthy beast had inflicted upon him, as well as the glee of the final victory that approached. His mighty arms gripped its gashing jaws, yanking them apart and using them as leverage to twist its neck around. The spine of the deathclaw was thick and powerful, its bones like metal, but Strong was the _strongest one there was_. The great beast fell, its neck snapping with a sound that echoed through the woods like a mighty tree falling.

" _I! AM! STRONG!_ " Strong declared, standing over the fallen deathclaw and exulting as he felt its mighty soul flow into him, the thrill of the hunt and this victory overwhelming.

Then he turned, walked a few feet back to the clearing, and went back to picking the flowers he had found. They were daffodils. They were very pretty.

 _ **Team: Omega Plus**_

Dogmeat, Nate had to admit, had good taste in random girls; she was indeed very cute, with surprisingly vibrant red hair and beautiful blue eyes, and mostly not coated in horrible radioactive filth. She also looked extremely confused, but nobody was perfect.

"Look, I don't know what's going on here. Your dog came out of nowhere and started herding me, and… can I just go home?" she asked. "I was kind of waiting for someone."

"Don't worry, we won't take up much of your time. In point of fact, this is kind of a compliment, since we asked Dogmeat here to find Preston a cute girl to go on a date with," Nate said.

"… You… asked your _dog_ to…"

"He's really smart. And I know it's unorthodox, but you have to admit: the world sucks and sometimes you really should just roll with it," Nate said. "For example, my friends are out there right now trying to set me up against my own will."

Preston coughed. "Sir, you know, if you find that awkward, maybe you shouldn't force these things on other people. Maybe you should just let love bloom naturally, like between two people who have been on the battlefield together, and…"

"Actually, that's the funny thing. The more I consider it, the less bothered I am," Nate said cheerfully. "I _do_ like Piper. And maybe… maybe that's the point in life, you know? You don't get to pick what life gives you, but you do get to pick how you react to it. I have a girl I care for, and I have a pack of _really weird_ friends who want to see me happy with her. And that isn't a bad thing. An odd thing, yes, but not a bad one per se. So maybe instead of running from it, or worrying about it, I should embrace it and see where it leads me. Is this a fucked up way to get a date? You bet it is. Does that make it bad? Maybe not! I should be brave enough to try it and see for myself, before I end up like you, with no life outside my job."

"… … … Oh."

"Don't feel bad, though, me and the dog are here to help you, the same way everyone was there to help me. We already found you a girl! And she's cute too, aren't you… miss?"

"My name it G5-… I mean. Um. Stephanie. Stephanie… Human," the young woman said, looking behind her as if expecting gunmen to burst from the alleys at any moment. "And I really must be getting home. So please tell your dog to let go of my pants…?"

"Bark, bark!" Dogmeat said, the sound somewhat muffled by the cloth of Stephanie Human's pants gripped firmly in his jaws.

"Dogmeat says you should pursue avenues that could lead you to future happiness, even if they seem weird at first glance," Nate said sagely. "So tell us, Stephanie, other than being a synth, what are you like as a person?"

"I'm… not a synth… what do you mean by that? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA," Stephanie Human said, her forced, nigh-emotionless laughter sounding totally natural.

"Sure. Well, Stephanie who is totally a human woman," Nate said placatingly, "what do you like to do for fun?"

"I… look, I'm really busy, I can't…"

"Ma'am, I'm sorry. My… 'friend' here is just being awful," Preston said. "You don't have to go on a date with me. I can't feel love anymore, anyway."

"Oh. Um. Thank you. But I mean, it's not _you_ , it's just I'm expecting someone. Who… I mean, it's kind of _important_. Life or death, some might say," Stephanie murmured, glancing nervously over her shoulder.

Nate blinked. "So, wait. You're saying… you need help?"

"I… look, no, I…"

"And would you say," Nate continued, "that you live in a settlement?"

Preston's eyes widened.

"I… yes, obviously, but I'm not sure what that has to do with anything…" Stephanie muttered, still looking as if she expected someone to stab her in the back at any second.

"Preston," Nate said. "I think I'd have to say that she lives in a settlement that needs help," Nate said, patting his friend on the back. "Maybe you should go give her a hand with that. Just a suggestion."

"Well. I guess I could," Preston said, straightening his tie a bit. "I mean, just this once. Like, for coffee or something."

"… What? Are you people insane? Look, I'm _waiting for someone_ in particular! I need to get back to my _house,_ I don't need strangers helping m-"

From behind Stephanie, in roughly the direction she kept nervously glancing, the sound of someone unloading an assault rifle on full auto tore through the air.

"OH GOD THEY FOUND ME, I NEED HELP!" Stephanie wailed, leaping into Preston's arms with such force that she lost a significant chunk of her pants in Dogmeat's jaws.

"Well, don't worry, Miss," Nate said. "Nobody loves helping more than the _Commonwealth Minutemen_. And as you can see, we've got one right here."

"… Thanks, sir," Preston said.

Dogmeat, pleased as his matchmaking skills, barked smugly.

 _ **Team: Actually It Pretty Much Just Fell Apart**_

" _What the shit, Cait?!"_ MacReady screamed from behind cover.

"It's okay, I'm aiming _behind_ ye," Cait said cheerfully, loading another clip and opening fire directly at MacReady, apparently under the belief that the fastest way to get to something that was behind someone was to hit them with so many bullets they dissolved.

" _So stop shooting until I'm not in front of it anymore_!"

"Nah, can't wait, she's probably ready ta run away by now," Cait said, watching her bullets tear into the crates MacReady was using for cover. Where had they even come from? Seemed like there was always cover around when someone needed to start shooting, really. The world was odd. She just kept firing to compensate for that.

"Wait, 'she'… _Cait, are you trying to kill the person I'm trying to save?!"_

"Apparently!"

"What the Hell?!"

"I need to kill her to get the wine!"

"Well _I_ need to save her to get some candles! And nobody sells those anymore since Myrna's a psychopath, so that's more important!"

"No, _mine_ is more important because otherwise, I'd have to keep looking fer wine and maybe even pay money ta get it!"

" _How is that more important?!"_

" _It sounds like a lot of work!"_ Cait snarled, loading another clip… and ducking as a bullet slammed into the shanty next to her, prompting her to take cover herself. "Did ye just _shoot_ at me, ye giant arse?!"

"You have literally been shooting at me since we got here!" MacReady snapped, his rifle barrel smoking.

"I've been aiming _behind_ ye!"

"By going _through me!_ That doesn't _help!_ "

" _It's the principle of the thing!"_

(*)

"Oh my God, are they actually trying to kill each other?" Nate asked. "How does one get from 'match-making' to this? I very much do not see the connection."

"OH MY GOD THEY'RE DESTROYING MY HOME!"

"Stephanie, I need you to chill out here. I'd have thought your robo-brain could handle stress better than this," Nate said.

"THE COURSERS FINALLY CAME FOR ME, THEY'RE GOING TO ERASE MY MIND AND TURN ME INTO A SLAVE FOR THEIR SCIENCE WHIMS!"

"Preston, could you keep your girlfriend under control?"

"She isn't really my-"

"SAVE ME! SAVE ME, MINUTEMEN!"

Preston blushed visibly. "Well. I mean, I _like_ her, but we really don't know each other well enough yet, so… I mean… maybe not _girlfriend,_ so much as like, an acquaintance who might one day become something deeper…"

"OH GOD PLEASE SAVE ME! I AM IN DESPERATE NEED OF HELP!"

"…Babe, please, this isn't the place to be talking dirty."

"Okay, here's how we're going to do this," Nate said, ignoring everything other than himself, because that was the best way to stay sane. "I'm going to solve this problem. Dogmeat, you're the only one I can trust, so you back me up. Preston, maybe you get that screaming woman somewhere that makes her stop screaming for a bit."

"MY SETTLEMENT IS IN DANGER, AND BY SETTLEMENT I MEAN MYSELF!"

"Oh, I'll make her scream," Preston murmured, waggling his eyebrows.

"Yeah, I… yeah," Nate said with a sigh. "Well, at least going insane puts you close to the rest of the squad. Okay, you go off and do whatever. Dogmeat! We need to separate Cait and MacReady so they can be properly scolded. This is a situation which calls for tact, diplomacy, and subtlety. _Fetch me my missile launcher_."

"Bark?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

(*)

Cait and MacReady were not bad people, really.

(Well, they were by the standards of sane people, but this was the Wasteland, and by the standards of the Wasteland all you really had to be was 'not a raider' to be considered reasonably moral.)

They were just very enthusiastic. Sometimes this enthusiasm took the form of a bar fight, sometimes it took the form of a wild night on the town, and sometimes it took the form of opening fire with automatic weapons in the middle of a town. Luckily, it was Diamond City, which had an extensive security force to stop them. Unluckily, it was the poor section of Diamond City, so security really didn't care. They were paid to protect people who had money, after all.

Which is why there were no innocent casualties in the area when Nate fired a small missile directly between them.

Now, both Cait and MacReady were very good at fighting things, but it's hard to do _anything_ when a high explosive detonates ten feet in front of you. Lots of people would have died from that, but Cait was basically raw aggression in the form of a woman and MacReady seemed to have a past consisting entirely of horrible things happening to everyone around him while he survived. By the time their ears had finished ringing and their heads had stopped spinning, however, Nate was standing between them.

Nate didn't look happy.

Nate looking unhappy had killed roughly two-hundred and forty-three Raiders, seventy-nine gunners, fifty-seven Super Mutants, a collection of robots from every section of the assembly line, and enough Deathclaws to make a decent set of living room furniture from the hides.

Cait and MacReady stopped fighting.

"So, hey guys," He said. "How come you're tryin' to kill each other?"

Cait coughed. "Um… I needed wine…"

"And you didn't just buy it?"

"Well… y'know, they all says, 'Boss needs the finest,' so's I was gonna get it, an' maybe a bit extra fer meself, but… well, ye know how the sayin' is, how ye can't make an omelet without shootin' some folks?"

"That is absolutely not the saying."

"It is where I grew up."

Nate sighed. "I wish I didn't believe that so readily. MacReady?"

"I may or may not have taken out a contract to save the lady Cait was supposed to kill," MacReady said. "She, you know, objected. I had a rebuttal prepared. The debate got spirited."

"You see, Cait? You see that? MacReady is an _ass_ and you made him the good guy here! That's how bad you screwed up!" Nate snapped.

"Cold, man," MacReady said.

"Of course I'm cold! I'm in a _bad mood!_ " Nate snapped. "Oh, you idiots are _lucky_ I actually decided to play along with this, or I might just tie you both up and leave you here for when the fire spreads to the rich part of town and the guards care enough to stop it."

"… Heeey, does that mean you're gonna make a move on Piper after all? Congrats, b-"

 _"SHUT UP._ "

"Eep."

Cait licked her lips. "Sooo, hey. You an' Piper. Piper an' _you._ I'm seein' that most beds have some extra room with just the two o' ya, so hey. Threesome sometime?"

"Did you _seriously_ just ask me that?"

"Always serious about shaggin', handsome."

"… My _God,_ you just have like, zero sense of self-preservation? The dog is legitimately more likely to exercise good judgment."

"Judgment is the opposite o' fun, boss."

Nate deflated visibly, finding it hard to maintain rage in the face of this…whatever this was. "Okay. Okay. MacReady. That woman you have to save is clinging to Preston as we speak. Go find her, save her, get whatever this was all about."

"Candles, boss."

"Seriously? I hate you _all._ And Cait…"

"So that's yes to the threesome, then?"

" _No._ If you absolutely must provide the beverages tonight, you can go _buy_ wine."

"… … … … I… _could…_ "

Nate sighed. "Or, you could go find the person who hired you, hit him with a crowbar while his back is turned, and rob him. Better?"

"You _get_ me, handsome."

"Dogmeat, go with Cait. If she turns around to come back here and kill 'Stephanie,' you can bite her ass."

"… Okay, gettin' a little too kinky fer even me there, bringin' the dog int-"

" _ **LEAVE.**_ "

Cait and MacReady left, then. They did not run away, because movement entices predators, but they did go at a brisk walk and didn't move in a straight line in case he pounced. Nate watched them go, trying _really hard_ not to take aim at anyone, and once they were gone he let out a sigh of mixed relief and surrender. "My friends are the weirdest."

As if to prove the universe agreed, Strong chose that moment to clomp out of an alley. He was soaked head to toe in blood and wore the head of a Deathclaw atop his own like a grisly crown. He walked up to Nate, held up a bouquet of blood-soaked mutated daffodils, and said, " **Strong have found ro-man-teek flowers. They have absorbed blood of Strong's foes, and become mighty. Good night.** "

He then turned and left, presumably to do whatever he was when Nate wasn't watching him. Was it eating people? God, Nate hoped it wasn't eating people.

 _ **Team:**_ _ **Omega Shadow Viper Plus Supreme: Mission… Complete?**_

It was finally the chosen time. Nate knew this because Hancock ran up to him a few hours later (How did people _always_ seem to know where he was in the Wasteland…?) and shouted, _"_ My man! You ready for a night on the town with some prime quality pu-"

"Do _not_ call Piper what you're about to call her."

"…uuuuuuuurposefully…arranged… romantic atmosphere?" he finished.

Nate sighed. "Actually, yes. I just hope that you guys didn't ruin it with your help, because otherwise this has been a wasted epiphany."

"Nah, man, we made _everything_ good. Got you the best restaurant in town, 'cept for the laser burns…"

"What."

"Piper's probably lookin' super hot…"

"Wait, probably?"

"Cait and MacReady got you some… well, MacReady actually never came back and Cait drank the wine, but we managed to wrestle some moonshine away from her, so that'll work. She bit Danse, I hope you appreciate the effort there."

"Oh, yeah, you guys have been doing great," Nate said with a sigh. "Do we know what happened to MacReady, at least?"

 _ **Elsewhere…**_

"That's right, Gunner scum! The Commonwealth Minutemen are here to defend this settlement from your predations!" Preston declared, firing his laser musket valiantly at the ne'er-do-wells who sought to take advantage of a poor settlement that needed help.

"Oh, Commonwealth Minutemen, you're _so sexy_ ," Stephanie Human said dreamily. "Any man who could devote his entire existence to you would clearly be _amazing_ in bed."

"How did I even _get_ here?" MacReady asked nobody in particular.

 _ **So yeah…**_

"I don't think we want to, bro," Hancock said wisely.

"Yeah. Yeah, knowing things never goes well. Okay, lead me to the disaster area and I'll try to salvage this situation."

"Why do I feel like you got no faith in us, boss?"

"Fuck you, Hancock."

"Eh, not the worst thing one of my friends has ever said to me."

(*)

Nate actually felt like he had to thank the gang, in a way.

He remembered his first date with Nora. His heart had been hammering in his throat the entire time. He had tried to order their dinner in French and accidentally asked where the bathroom was, spilled soup on her dress, and missed her mouth when he tried to kiss her, instead landing somewhere to the left of her nose. If that had led to a happy marriage he would treasure for the rest of his life, _this_ ridiculous mess had to lead to something amazing too, right?

He turned the corner, stepping up to the outer café of the Dugout Inn, and blinked.

The sun was setting, a beautiful corona of oranges, reds, and pinks, nipped at the edges by deep blue as night chased it. And there, framed among the setting sun, was…

"A… suit of T-45 power armor, Strong's bloody flowers, and a burning Mr. Handy?" he asked nobody in particular.

"Blue, if that's you, I need a stiff drink and a knife to drive into Danse's groin, not necessarily in that order," Piper's muffled voice said from inside the armor.

"What."

"Ah, Master Nate! _Welcome_ sir. I am pleased to welcome you to our humble establishment!" Codsworth said, floating out with a lovely bow-tie glued below his eyestalks. "Please, please, take a seat, your dinner is well on the way. But first, a bit of wine for you and the lady?"

"Oh. Um. Sure…?"

"Alas, we have none! We do however have this substance, which my sensors indicate is only 33% poison," Codsworth said cheerfully, his extender limb holding aloft a clumsily sealed bottle of… something. "I hear it is quite the beloved recipe amongst riders on the caravans, and they almost never die from it!"

"Codsworth, I hear you out there. Let me out of this armor and I'll give you an oil change. I'll give ya _two_ ," Piper said.

"Alas, my directive for the evening is serving refreshments, Miss Wright, or I would be delighted! But as dinner is in the oven, I must leave you lovebirds alone and head back to the kitchen! Au revoir!"

"Codsworth! _Codsworth I will kick your metal ass!_ " Piper shrieked as the robot scooted off to do his duty. " _Kidnapping is still a crime if you're a robot, ya shiny jackass! And you tell Nick I said the same!"_

Nate blinked a few times… and started to laugh.

"It's not _funny_ , Blue. That _is_ Blue out there, right? I never got a confirmation. If you're a stranger, it's not funny _douche_."

"S…sorry, Piper," Nate said, in between uncontrollable chuckles. "Just… just… hahahahahaha! Just if I had to pick a day that… that symbolized my _life_ , it would have to be today. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"Okay. Either explain yourself, let me out, or pour some of that poison moonshine into my helmet. Or all three," Piper muttered.

"It's just… everything has gone wrong," he said, wiping a tear of mirth from his eye. "Not one thing went even close to as planned. I'm surrounded by confusing weirdoes and nothing makes sense to me, and I feel helpless to change anything, and just… disaster all around. It should be horrible…"

"Yeah, I feel ya on that one. Because I literally can't change anything, there's no Fusion Core in this suit. So it would be _neat_ if you _let me out of…"_

"… but I'm still happy, because you're here."

"What. "

"It's true! You turned a day that was frustrating and infuriating into… well. Something that made me smile," he said.

"Oh. Um. Well. I mean, I'm not… super thrilled at the situation. But I'm happy that you're happy."

He chuckled. "And there you go. Even at your lowest point, you're more concerned with others than yourself."

"Eh, this ain't my lowest point, Blue. I've been poisoned before."

"I remember. You got poisoned by a caravan cartel for exposing their plan to drive up food prices. Because you care more about the truth than your own safety."

She coughed. "Um. Well, I mean, I'm not perfect. I try, but…"

"But you don't believe in yourself. You don't see how great you are. But you know what? I do. Because I'm happy when you're around, even when _everything_ is wrong. And Piper? _Everything is wrong._ My family is gone, my world is gone, and all my friends are crazy. But you've been beside me every step of the way, and it's kept me… I don't know. As close to sane as I can get anymore. And that's more special than you realize."

"Oh. Ummmmm. Er. Well, I mean… I haven't done _that_ much. I mean, Preston's been with you longer than I have…"

Nate blinked. "He has? Holy crap, he _has!_ I just kind of stopped thinking about h…no, no, getting off-topic," he said. "My point is, well. Piper. Our friends are _idiots._ But they aren't always wrong about things. They set this up to give us time together, and they did it badly, but you know what? It was worth it. Because this might not be the best date ever, but that's okay. Because it means we have nowhere to go but up."

"D-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-"

"Date, yes," he said with a chuckle. "At least, if you don't mind it being a date. And don't mind it being the first of many."

"I. That. I. You. Me? But. That. Handsome! So nice! Better. You could."

"Piper, that wasn't a sentence."

"I know it wasn't, you jerk!" she squeaked. "I… jeez, I'm glad you can't see me now because I'm blushing up a storm. You're, well. Handsome, and smart, and awesome at about everything you do. And I'm… erm…"

"Beautiful? Intelligent? Kind? Loyal? Willing to die for your friends?"

"… Yeah, but I write pretty sub-par newspapers. Ya jerk," she said with a soft sigh and a chuckle.

"Was that surrender I hear in your tone, Wright? Dare I say, _acceptance_?" Nate asked with a smirk. "It's hard to tell 'cause you're in a tin can."

"I'd kick you if I wasn't, Blue."

"Hard to hear you in that tin can, Wright. You say 'kick' or 'kiss?'"

"Let me out and we'll see."

Nate grinned. "Mmmmm, I don't knoooow…"

"… This is payback for me teasing you about finding baseball cards for Moe, huh."

"I have no idea what you mean."

"I hate you."

Nate's grin widened. "You love me."

"A little bit. Cute jerk."

This was not how Nate had imagined his life going.

But you know, maybe it wasn't all bad.


End file.
